


indulgence

by douchechill



Category: Dousousei ~Hito wa Sando Koi o Suru~, Kurokouchi
Genre: Degradation, Frottage, Hatesex, M/M, Rough Sex, anal penetration, bareback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/douchechill/pseuds/douchechill
Summary: An itch you can't scratch.





	indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> I have this personal AU where Ryousuke does seedy doctor work for Kurokouchi whenever he's wounded in investigations, as they were classmates in the past. He's an architect in the drama, sure, but he's still the son of a hospital owner, so he's got to know _something_.
> 
> Anyway, Kurokouchi's blackmailing him with knowledge of Ryousuke's multiple affairs and the scandal of it, so.

Kurokouchi is an itch.

A problem, an issue, an annoyance. A blemish on Ryousuke’s otherwise perfect life. And while he usually gets through these things with a smile (he’s good at faking it, good at pretending), Kurokouchi is different. Kurokouchi doesn’t laugh sheepishly and nod his head, apologising for wasting Ryousuke’s time. Kurokouchi doesn’t do anything politely.

No–he smiles back, and he says, “My, you must like me a lot to spend so much time with me.”

And Ryousuke can’t stand him.

He can’t stand his exaggerated voice and his wide eyes; he can’t stand his standard ringtone and his love of pictures. He can’t stand paying for meals worth thousands of yen, can’t stand renting hotel rooms, can’t stand Kurokouchi’s insistence in calling him at four in the morning.

And he can’t stand the fact that it’s always for this.

Kurokouchi gasps when his back collides with the concrete wall and Ryousuke’s hands unfasten his belt without mercy.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Kurokouchi goads, and Ryousuke feels him stiff in his briefs, grips him hard and violent and digs his nail into the tip of his cock. It’s got to sting–there’s got to be a reaction somewhere–but all Kurokouchi does is laugh, so Ryousuke shuts him up with his mouth.

He can’t stand fucking him, either.

Even when Kurokouchi ruts into his palm, Ryousuke is annoyed. Even when Kurokouchi’s arms wrap around his neck, when his chapped lip splits and bleeds for Ryousuke’s front teeth, Ryousuke is annoyed. He doesn’t have to taste like metal, doesn’t have to feel warm and alive in his grasp as he squirms, and yet he is all of this and more–is only getting harder and harder and harder.

The kiss breaks only a moment, a muted ‘fuck’ passing Kurokouchi’s lips, and Ryousuke barely has time to say “Come like this, you whore.” before their mouths meet again.

Kurokouchi gets off on it–the insults, the swears. Ryousuke stops kissing him to bite the lobe of his ear, to hiss venom in it, to call him _a slut, a filthy little bitch, doesn’t take you much to come, does it?_ And Kurokouchi thrusts harder, faster, keening and throwing his head back as his clothed cock pushes and pushes into Ryousuke’s callused palm. He swears, and Ryousuke swears back– _Bet you can come from this, bet you wanna come from this, soak your fucking briefs for me before I fuck you into the wall, don’t you?_ –and Ryousuke hates this, hates him, hates the fact that his wedding ring burns on his left hand and Kurokouchi’s voice is turning higher and higher.

“Fuck!” Kurokouchi shouts, slams his head back into concrete and swings his hips up hard and heavy. His underwear’s soaked now, fabric dark, and Kurokouchi makes a whine so high Ryousuke thinks he might cry. “Gonna come, gonna come, gonna come Sakurai fuck I–yes, yes, _yes_!”

There’s a burst of warmth that fills Kurokouchi’s underwear and trickles down his thigh for Ryousuke to scoop with his fingers, and it’s thick and sticky and white.

Kurokouchi’s knees are trembling when he’s turned around, cheek pressed to the wall and his legs spread. They’re trembling even when Ryousuke tugs his underwear down all the way, even when Ryousuke’s fingers push and twist into his ass, and with morbid fascination he watches that tanned spine curve towards his touch.

This man is his, Ryousuke thinks. His to own and to possess, his to fuck because he hates him. He thinks this as he slicks his own cock–wet at the tip, wetter from Kurokouchi’s orgasm–knows it as he shoves hard into that tight body in one harsh stroke. And Kurokouchi laughs; he laughs happily, brutally, like broken glass and tinkling diamonds, like the edges of his nails as they scratch at concrete.

It hurts, but that’s what either of them ever want. Fast and hard and heavy, Kurokouchi’s head pressed to a wall and their hips smacking together. Ryousuke always comes like this; Kurokouchi’s body is perfect and durable, strong and hard and nothing like a woman’s. He takes everything Ryousuke gives and more–he thirsts for cock and sex and the thrill of Ryousuke’s teeth chomping hard into his shoulder. He wants Ryousuke to fuck him. He wants to be full of his dick.

“Breed me,” Kurokouchi breathes, panting. “C'mon, doc–dirty old fuck, don’t'cha want me pumped full'a ya?”

And for fuck’s sake, he _does_. He does he does he does–wants to scratch the itch away, to quell his addiction, to come in Kurokouchi’s hole and fuck it even deeper. So Ryousuke slams the other man’s forehead once more into the wall, hears a thump and Kurokouchi’s laugh, and then grips his hip tight with his hand to mark his insides forever.

Kurokouchi is so tight, so warm, so perfect. So excited as Ryousuke fucks him hard enough Kurokouchi’s cheeks shake–so pleased he’ll be full of come. It’s dirty and depraved and uncivilised; Ryousuke spanks Kurokouchi’s ass once before he digs his nails into his hip for real. But his cock throbs in Kurokouchi’s body, where it’s hot and tight and perfect. He throbs and twitches and leaks and Ryousuke swears hard and blinks hard–

And comes hard, shooting straight into Kurokouchi’s body.

“Ryousuke,” Kurokouchi says as Ryousuke pulls away. Says it as Ryousuke turns him over again, then lifts the other man’s knees up to bring them to his chest. Ryousuke sees his come drip out, oozing on the floor and he hates Kurokouchi for wasting, but seeing the edges of his hole pink and stretched and wet tells him there’s an easy remedy for that.

When you itch, you scratch.

Ryousuke fucks Kurokouchi a second time just to be sure.


End file.
